save your breath III: What I've Done
by onelildustbunni
Summary: Picks up where save your breath II: I know what you did last summer left off. Hellion has to live with what he's done, and his life begins to fall apart around his ears-and X-23 blames herself. Hellion & X-23 pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Save Your Breath III: What I've Done

**Characters: **Hellion, X-23, and the New Mutants + Hellions squads

**Universe: **616 pre-M-Day

**Summary:** Picks up where _save your breath II: I know what you did last summer_ left off. Hellion has to live with what he's done, and his life begins to fall apart around his ears-and X-23 blames herself.

**_TITLE NOTE: _**Named after the Linkin Park song 'What I've Done' (distorted remix).

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><p><strong>-1-<strong>

* * *

><p>"Laura, what the <em>hell<em> are you doing?"

The girl turned at the door, her hand on the knob. "I…"

Julian Keller was standing on the staircase, his arms folded and his hair rumpled from sleep. He was wearing a nightshirt and boxer shorts; however, Laura was entirely dressed, and she had a backpack on her shoulder.

She lowered her gaze. "I cannot stay. You know this, but what you've seen is only a fraction of what the facility can do. I cannot put you at risk. I—"

"No. Get upstairs. You can't leave," he said, his voice hoarse. "I can't believe you'd even _consider_ leaving. Laura…"

She bowed her head. "They will find me. They will find _you_, because…the information was passed along. I am certain of this."

"So?" He looked unconvinced. "I don't give a rat's ass about them 'finding' us. We got out alive…and…Kimura…" he left his sentence unfinished. "You said she was the bad one. If we beat her, they've got _nothing_ on us."

"Julian…please," Laura said, twisting the door knob. "Please, understand."

"You don't care about me, do you?" he asked suddenly, his voice sharp.

Silence.

"You do not understand," Laura said again. "I am leaving _because_ I care."

"That's a lie." Julian glared at her. "Fine, go…and show me that I was wrong."

"Wrong?" Laura asked.

"To kill for you," he said, out loud, the shadow that had been hanging over him ever since they'd returned from their summer vacation. "If you actually gave a damn about me, you wouldn't leave me alone…to deal with that."

"I have always been alone," Laura pointed out.

"That needs to stop," Julian said, like he always seemed to. "I need you to stay. Every time I look at you…I think I did the right thing. I _know_ I did the right thing. But…if you're not here…" he left the sentence dangling.

"You will be safer." Laura opened the door and stepped outside, leaving the boy in the foyer, his mouth open in disbelief as the door closed in his face.

Outside, Laura was reminded that it was raining; however, she did not have an umbrella. She sighed and headed down the pavement. It would be a long walk, as she did not want to take a vehicle from the institute that she could not return.

She stopped, puzzled, and touched her eyes. They were wet, but it was not rain; the liquid was warm, in contrast to the cold. They were _tears_, something she'd had an excess of only a few times in her life.

Laura looked back at the institute door, about two hundred meters away. He was no longer on the other side, having stormed up the stairs (his footsteps loud enough as to be audible to her) and slammed his door, even though it was 2 AM.

She sniffled, took a few more steps, then turned around and headed back the way she had come.

A few minutes later found her curled against his side, drying her eyes on his t-shirt and soaking his bed with the rain her clothing had absorbed. No words had been spoken, but his stormy expression had dissipated at seeing her open his door, and had given away to a small smile.

**…**

It was now autumn, and the Hellions had returned from their summer vacation at Julian Keller's property in California—and their misadventurous run-in with the facility that continuously plagued Laura Kinney, the small, silent, female clone of Wolverine (the surly male original).

Laura found herself taking comfort in the routine of class once again, having found that Summer contained too many long, awkward pauses. And unsupervised moments, in which the facility could attempt to steal her back.

Several times she had attempted to leave the institute, but had been prevented.

She couldn't believe that Kimura was dead. She wouldn't. The woman was indestructible, and her thirst for blood was insatiable. What seemed like such a gory finale to the others was too simple for Laura. She _knew_ it wasn't enough to kill Kimura.

She expected to see her around every corner, across every street, waiting.

In contrast, Julian believed, very strongly, that Kimura was dead. And that _he_ was responsible. He now shared a small part of the entirety of Laura's life; the crushing weight of responsibility.

She found it strange that _she_ seem to understand his new, overwhelming state better than his other friends, who weren't aware of his deed during the summer. She wasn't used to understanding anyone other than herself (which she still didn't know how to deal with), but she found that now she did.

He was mourning his innocence lost.

**…**

"I'm failing math this term," Julian said, sprawled out on Laura's bed, waving his hands as he spoke. "And English, _and_ history. What am I going to _do?" _

It had become a standard occupation for him; he would seek Laura out after every school day, and lie on her bed, complaining loudly about school while she completed her assignments and homework. He had become even more full of random, incessant chatter since the day that seemed to loom over his head, taxing his concentration.

Laura suspected it was a coping mechanism for the boy, much like her self-inflicted injuries. She said nothing, except for the occasional response to his comments. The closest he'd come to bringing it up—other than when she tried to leave—was to rub her shoulders (during the times she lay beside him and read novels) at precisely the point the damage had occurred, his eyes taking on a similar glaze as the trauma had caused. He was always quiet during those moments, and Laura actually found that the silence disturbed her.

Not much else did.

"Study," Laura responded, turning the page in her text book. "You are wasting your time by over-analyzing the problem."

"I don't overanalyze," Julian said defensively.

"You do," Laura said. "You have spent the last two weeks trying to pinpoint the exact reason that you cannot study…instead of studying."

"Yeah, but—" he said.

"No. I am surprised you accept defeat so easily," Laura said, her tone scolding. "The subjects are not difficult. You should not be failing courses. Much of the information is practical and will be of use to you later on."

"Really?" Julian seemed interested.

"Yes. I have, for instance, used my knowledge of electricity gained from the study of Physics many times in the field."

"To electrocute people?" Julian asked.

"No. For practical purposes." Laura flipped a page. "Electrocution is an impractical method of attack. There is a great risk that you will be electrocuted, unless you have properly grounded yourself."

"Oh." He was silent for a while, and Laura returned to her reading: a biology book, explaining parts of the brain (which Laura already knew quite well, having been tutored in Biology in order to become a more efficient killer). However, she found that the quizzes and exams often relied on exact wording from the text; therefore it helped to review the material before hand.

"Want to do something tonight?" he asked from the bed.

Laura sighed, smoothed out a wrinkle on the page. "There is an exam tomorrow."

"So?"

"You should study."

"And?"

"Julian, you _need_ to study."

"And?"

Laura glared at him, something she'd found herself doing, of late. She was concerned at his attitude; she'd been informed, by her superiors, how wonderful and necessary an education would be—it was a mission objective—and yet he did not seem to share her desire to fulfill it.

For some reason, his carelessness disturbed her. She had struggled to put her finger on it, not used to thinking about the distant future; finally she had decided that it had something to do with the icy, finger-numbing fear she had felt when Kimura had nearly killed him.

"Wow, I didn't know you could do that," Julian said, sitting up. "You just gave me _the look,_ like, spot on."

"'The look'?" Laura asked, distracted.

"It's a woman thing," Julian said. "I've seen my mom do it to my dad before. He'd just, like, wither and give in. Really pathetic."

Laura watched him.

"Alright, alright," Julian said, pretending to shield his eyes. "I know…you can read it to me."

She considered this, then turned back to the page she had begun. "Although less than five millimeters thick, the highly folded _cerebral cortex _accounts for about eight percent of—"

"No, bring it here," Julian said.

Laura paused, then scooped the book off the table and carried it to the bed. After a few moments she continued, and he finally quieted down, seemingly content to listen (although he interrupted her to ask questions).

A half hour later, the door almost slammed open, and Cessily rushed in. "Laura, I—_**WHOA!**_" She caught a glimpse of the pair curled up on the bed and covered her eyes, wincing. "Jeez! Sorry, I didn't know you were here! I didn't see nothing, I swear on my—"

"Relax, we're studying," Julian said, sounding amused.

"Oh." Cessily peered through her fingers. "I thought—never mind. Anyways, Laura, I wanted to know if I could borrow your English notes."

"Yes," Laura said.

Cessily paused and craned her neck. "You guys are studying Bio?"

"Yes," Laura said again.

"She's reading it to me," Julian said.

"Oh! Can I sit in?" Cessily wrinkled her nose. "I didn't mean—I can sit on own bed—"

"Sure," he said, grinning. "Stop being so awkward, Cess."

"Right away, cap'n," Cessily said sheepishly.

**…**

"..." Julian sat on the floor, dazed.

"Thought we went over this," Logan said, sounding stern but amused.

Laura appeared distressed. "It was unintentional. He—he did not block properly." She looked at the boy seemingly struggling to focus on the glossy floor of the dojo, having fallen and hit his head following the three rapid blows of her attack that had unintentionally struck him when he had not made the appropriate move in the backward direction.

Seeing that he did not try to stand, she approached him and knelt at his side. "You will be fine," she said, instead of apologizing. "The impact was minor. You do not have a concussion. Get up."

"But—" Julian closed his eyes, then opened them and realized the whole class had paused to watch him mess up. He scrambled to his feet, his face red as the enormity of the situation struck him.

Everyone had just seen him get beat up by his _girlfriend. _

Logan bit back a grin. He was somewhat aware of the relationship between his charge and the boy, who he considered to be a little punk; Laura had not told him anything, but he was aware of the change in scents and behavior when the pair interacted. He had, at first, thought of taking the boy aside and having a stern talk with him; but then he had decided that Laura could take care of herself (and might view such an intervention as an insult).

He _had, _however, taken Laura out for dinner; at which he had made a small, vague reference to the need for protection during intercourse. Laura had replied by correcting him about some safety methods and then giving him a detailed scientific explanation of why the methods worked, along with an impressive list of success/failure rate percentages.

Logan had decided that she knew what she was doing. Then Laura had mentioned something (to reassure him) that raised the hackles on his neck:_ "I have had sufficient experience in this field, and am well aware of the requirement for 'protection'."_

He had stopped her then to demand an explanation, but Laura had remained silent, clamming up, her eyes warning him to delve no farther. He'd decided he would ask Emma to investigate. He _had,_ and the woman had promised she would unearth this—but he would have to be patient. Apparently, Emma had a whole plan to win Laura's trust, and planned to assist the girl on dealing with her trauma and engrained assassin training.

Logan had asked why she couldn't just yank it all out, and Emma had patiently explained that 'yanking' the memories could effectively destroy Laura's mind, as they were so deeply rooted that they were subconscious.

He'd decided to be patient.

Now he was watching her offer a hand to the boy that she'd once seemed to harbor dislike for (dislike, because Logan could not see the girl going as far as 'hating' anything less than her creators), and noting that the boy looked different, somehow. He squinted.

Emma had mentioned that the boy had been involved in Kimura's destruction. Logan had recovered the body, and had noted that it was quite gruesome; the woman's eyes had popped, and her internal organs had been destroyed as far as he could tell (which was impossible to determine for certain, as even in death, her skin remained impenetrable). Dr. McCoy had determined, with available tissue samples, that she had been killed by an internal surge of energy, which was suspected to be linked to Julian. Only he, Laura and Emma knew what had really occurred, and none would share the information, the latter concerned with protecting her charges. She had promised to council the boy herself.

The X-men had decided not to delve too deeply into the matter, as it was an act done in self defense against a secret, dangerous criminal. No one considered the boy to be a threat.

"You two…few words after," Logan grunted, then moved on to the next pair of students: Jay Guthrie and Laurie Collins. Unfortunately this was an exam, of sorts, and he had to pass or fail each student, based on their ability to defend themselves in a sparring match.

And Keller had just effectively failed.


	2. Chapter 2

**- 2-  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Sorry, Keller," Logan said to the boy, who had gone pale.<p>

"You can't!" Julian exclaimed, distressed. "This—I can't stay on the squad if I don't pass. You—I—"

Logan held up his hand. "Don't wanna hear it. Laura, you got a week to teach yer man here to protect himself, or he's failed. You can show me on Monday. Come ten minutes early. Good?"

"Hai," Laura said, apprehensively. She glanced at Julian, wondering if it was possible. The boy still hadn't mastered the moves, after two months of Logan's patient instruction. What chance did _she_ have of teaching him?

"Dismissed. Don't disappoint me."

They exited the dojo, and Julian promptly began to rant.

"This is _bullshit! _Why did you do that?"

"I did not do anything different. It was a simple attack. You did not step back as you were supposed to."

"I totally did my part! It's you and your…" Julian struggled to find a word that would encompass Laura's viper-like combat techniques. "…experience," he said finally, annoyed.

"You know that that is not true," Laura said.

Julian scowled at her. "This is all your fault. Thanks a lot." He shouldered his backpack and sped up, intending to leave her behind; then he stopped in his tracks. "I was…" his said, his voice much lighter.

Laura waited, halting as well. There was silence for a few moments, except for the sound of the students in the hallway around them, who were talking and laughing with each other.

"…I kind of blanked out," he said. "I saw…I—" he looked down, his brow wrinkled. "Nevermind."

"What did you see?" Laura asked.

He paused.

"I remembered you. Fighting. And…I was there again. Kinda." He hesitated.

"Kimura," he said.

Silence. Laura reached out and put her hand on his shoulder in comfort, and was about to speak, to express her understanding; then they were interrupted by a throat clearing. A girl's.

They turned; it was Sofia Mantega, her arms folded around a pile of books. Her eyes were burning, full of anger and hurt.

"So," she said.

Julian stopped. "Oh—"

The girl held up her hand. "I only addressed you…to inform you that you are _not_ to approach me. Please. I am…I cannot forgive you so easily. Any pleasure expressed towards your presence would be false."

Laura was silent.

"Sof, you never heard us out," Julian said, angrily.

"I do not need to," the girl said. "In time, I may forgive you, Julian…" she left her sentence unfinished, but her eyes found Laura's, and then she turned away.

Laura looked down.

"Don't," Julian said. "She's just being unreasonable. Why do you _women _have to be so difficult and bitchy to each other?" he asked, exasperated.

"I am not being difficult," Laura said.

"I know you're not. I meant _her._" He sighed. "So, you think you can get me to pass the test on Monday?"

"Yes. But it will require discipline."

"I trust _you'll_ take care of that," he mumbled.

**…**

In the morgue, Dr. McCoy pulled the sheet back a little, exposing the woman's square-featured face to Logan, whose hands were in his pockets, his expression surly. "Figured out what she had goin' on for her yet, Hank?" he asked.

"No." Dr. McCoy let the sheet drop again. "It's very curious, isn't it? Four months…and no decomposition whatever. And I cannot even access her internal organs to examine them. Most abilities shut down when the subject is dead."

Logan grunted. "Think we got a waker?"

"Possible, but highly unlikely. I cannot make heads or tails of the situation. At least, I can say with the utmost confidence that she has not regenerated at all."

Logan grunted again. "Wonder if we should be keepin' her in such a low-security room." He followed the doctor out, and caught the light with his finger as he went.

The body lay in the dark, on the tray, silent and still.

**…**

"!"

Julian sat up, his heart pounding and sweat running in rivers down his forehead. He stared ahead into the darkness, every hair on the back of his neck standing up. His hand scrambled for his bedside lamp; it illuminated the room—and his roommate's equally disturbed expression.

"…" Brian blinked at him. "Man, that musta been—"

Julian pushed the covers away, then headed across the room to the door. He tore it open as Brian stared after him. He didn't care what he thought—he needed to find the person that understood.

A few moments later, in the girl's dorm, his mind had cleared enough for him not to just barge in, like he was going to. He hesitated, then tapped on the door with the back of his finger.

Nothing at first. Then it opened; Laura peered out, in a long night t-shirt with something printed on it. She didn't seem surprised; of course not, she could smell him coming a mile away.

"I…" he mumbled, uncertainly.

Laura examined him.

"I was asleep," she said, seeming displeased.

"Sorry," he grunted.

"You are perspiring," she murmured. "Your heart is also beating at an increased rate."

"I had a nightmare," he whispered, feeling stupider by the moment. "Can I—I want to sleep with you, please."

Laura stiffened. "It is a school night. Cessily is here."

"I know." He reached into the crack in the door and put his hand on the side of her neck, his eyes pleading.

A few minutes later he was in the dark, wiggling into her bed and trying to press himself against the wall. It was a little tight for both of them on the twin mattress, but he didn't mind, and he didn't think Laura did, either. After a few moments she'd settled in as well, and laid her head under his chin, over his still-racing heart.

Both were silent for a while, and he thought that Laura was asleep, when she spoke: "What did you see?"

"Hm?" he asked, even though he knew what she meant. It was still burnt into the insides of his eyelids, there every time he closed his eyes; only a little less intense now that he was certain it wasn't true.

"Your 'nightmare'," Laura whispered.

He hesitated. "I think you know," he said.

Laura nodded, slightly.

Silence. He finally did fall asleep again.

**…**

Julian awoke the next morning to Laura bustling around the room, collecting her things for class as her roommate occupied the bathroom. He inched down the edge of the comforter and watched as she dug through her underwear drawer with a serious look, her hair still unbrushed.

"Morning," he whispered from the bed.

"Hello," Laura replied, not looking in his direction. She seemed to find what she was looking for; a moment later she straightened and added something to the small pile she was creating on the dresser.

He frowned, then made a fist, and the mound of clothes flew to him—just as she reached for them.

"Julian, I require those garments," she said, her hands closing on air.

"Come and get them," he said, giving her an innocent look.

Laura obeyed without comment; he frowned. He'd expected more of a challenge; he handed the armful back to her, using her proximity as a chance to give her a small kiss.

The bathroom door opened wide.

"It's all yours! God, I think I need to lose—_**AHHHHH!**_" Cessily screeched and scrambled to cover herself up with her towel, seeing the boy on the bed. "What the heck are _you_ doing here?"

"He had a nightmare," Laura replied promptly, before he could speak.

Julian glared at her, but Cessily looked somber, not as though she were about to bash him. She fingered her towel as Laura scooped up her belongings and swept towards the washroom.

He looked after her, wishing he could follow but not having his closet at hand.

"D'you mind? I need to…" Cessily said pointedly. He sighed, then left, ignoring a few strange looks he received in the hallway.

**…**

They were running again, through the darkness. His heart was pounding in his chest. Displays that had been _fun_ the last times he'd seen them were now terrifying, because they were in the dark, and the bodies strewn about might not be props. They might be his friends.

They _were_ his friends. He didn't have time to stop, because if he did, he'd joined them. He ran through the graveyard after Laura, hearing the sounds behind them. _**VRRRMMM! VRRMMM! **_

_**THUNK!**_

He tripped on something, in the long grass. Scrambling around, he could see it was a limb. It was—it was—

Too late. He looked up as the woman caught up, holding the gleaming, blood-soaked edge of the saw beside her smiling face. Her smile was too wide, too exhilarated, like a child that had overexerted itself.

There were bits of—_oh, god—_he could only stare. Movement was beyond him.

"Knock, knock," Kimura said.

"No—" he said, feeling his heart thump in his chest. _Knock, knock, knock…_

"_Yes,_" Kimura said, her fingers reaching for the ripcord. "Isn't that cute? You can _really_ be together now…because I'll cut you up and mix the pieces!"

He stared. _Knock, knock, knock…_

Kimura brought the saw down.

_**BAM! **_

"_**WHAT**_thefuck," he gasped, sitting upright in the dark, for real, his heart pounding in his chest, but not knocking. Wait, it wasn't entirely dark. He finally turned his head, and saw that Laura was standing at the door, dressed in…her gear?

He had to still be dreaming. He froze, wondering if he would now begin dreaming that Kimura was in the school.

"He did not respond," Laura said, as if explaining something. "I have been knocking for five minutes and thirty-two seconds. I could hear that his heart rate was accelerating…then he began to make noises of protest."

"…" Julian realized she was explaining to Brian why she had just broken their door in with her claws, which were still out. The boy had backed up against his headboard, obviously terrified. He struggled to focus on reality. "Is' okay," he mumbled, rubbing his face with the back of his hand. "I'm fine. Go back t' bed."

"I came to retrieve you for practice," Laura said, still from the doorway.

Julian looked at the small clock on his nightstand. After about a minute of examining it, he spoke again. "Is' four in the morning," he slurred.

"Retrieve your equipment," Laura said, as if she had not heard.

**…**

"…" Julian followed the girl down the stairs, stumbling down a few and gripping the banister tightly. Apparently, she would not take 'no' for an answer, as she had dragged him out of the bed when he'd fallen asleep again (he had woken upon his impact with the floor). He'd resisted at first, with a nasty argument; she had reminded him, in a few quiet words, of what he stood to lose.

He wondered how she thought he could practice skills that required _balance _right now.

"I need caffeine," he said, stopping as they reached the hallway that led to the kitchen.

"No, you do not," Laura said impatiently.

"Yes, I _do,_" he snapped. "I don't know what crazy drug you're on…but I've never been up so early in my life!"

"I am not on a drug. The morning is the best time to begin training. Your body produces hormones that—"

"—help me _sleep_," Julian said. "So yes, I need the caffeine." He disappeared down the hallway.

After five minutes had passed Laura followed and found him asleep on the floor. She roused him rather rudely (with her boot) and suggested he not open the pop-can that had landed by his head when he'd toppled over.

Julian grumbled a nasty and colorful description of the girl as he struggled to his feet again, his head pounding with a headache.


End file.
